


Lifeline

by goldarrow



Series: Timeline!verse [8]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-10-01 20:44:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20399806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldarrow/pseuds/goldarrow
Summary: A former boyfriend of this timeline's original Stephen’s shows up and wants to pick up where they left off.





	Lifeline

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures. I will return everything in almost pristine condition when I'm finished.
> 
> Ditzy, Lyle, Blade and the other SF members are fredbassett's, who kindly lends them out.
> 
> Wainwright is mine.

This was a situation I'd been afraid would happen someday when I took over the life of this timeline’s original, now deceased, Stephen Hart. The man facing me in the grocer’s was looking very expectantly at me, and I didn't have the foggiest idea who he was. It did seem, though, as if the original Stephen and I had the same taste in men, since he was tall, blond and quite a hunk. Not as spectacular as Ryan, of course, but still nothing to sneeze at. And he seemed to believe we were close; very close, indeed, judging by the salacious expression on his face and the fact that he was edging nearer and nearer to me in the vegetable aisle. I was starting to get worried both for and by the cucumbers behind me as I stepped backwards a bit at a time to try to keep a little space between us.

His expression melted from expectation to irritation when I didn't respond. 

“What, you won’t even talk to me, now?” he asked, reaching out for my shoulder. 

I twisted away quickly, and dropped the orange pepper I was holding back into its tray before I did it a mischief. “Sorry, don't know you,” I replied as shortly as I could. The last thing I needed was this complication now that Ryan and I had finally come to a balance in our relationship. Turning my back on the stranger with my skin crawling a bit, I walked away, thinking that he'd have to be a nutter to stage a scene in a shop. Unfortunately, it seemed he was. Fuck.

I didn't even make it past the fruit before he caught my arm and spun me around. 

“What do you mean, you don't know me?” he demanded. “We were together for a bloody year!” His voice was rising on every word. “We were happy! And then you just upped and walked out. Never even told me why! One day you're there, the next you've moved all your things out and left nothing behind but a note saying 'sorry, not working out'. God damn it, Stephen! Why?” By the time he finished, he was shouting and everyone around us was staring. 

I wanted to sink through the floor. I gritted my teeth and spoke softly in a deliberate counterpoint to his sound and fury. “We might have been together for a year, but it's been at least a year since we broke up. Go. Away.”

Mouth hanging open, he gulped and dropped my arm. “At 'least' a year? Fuck it all, Stephen, don't you even know how long it's been since you stomped on my heart like that?” He raised a shaking hand to my cheek and I stepped back again. When his face darkened and his eyes narrowed, I knew it was time to get out of there.

“I think we need to cut this off,” I said quietly but firmly. “It's over, I've moved on, and by this time you should have, too. Go home, go away, leave me alone.” I turned and walked away as quickly as I could without running. As I exited the shop, a quick glance over my shoulder showed him still standing in the middle of the aisle, staring after me. 

It was an hour before his parting look of mingled love, devastation and furious hatred faded from my mind enough that I was able to stop the occasional shivers that vibrated through my body. And I still didn't even know his name.

xXx

“How much do you know about your Stephen's past?” It had taken all of my courage to ask that question, and Ryan's stare almost made me cringe.

“You are my Stephen,” he replied, his tone as blank as his gaze.

That set me back on my heels for a moment, just long enough to acknowledge the warm feeling under my ribs. Then a closer look at Ryan's face and the tightness of his fist around his can of beer made me grimace for a second. “I'm not asking for details,” I said hurriedly. “I just had an odd encounter in a shop this morning, and I was wondering if you could shed some light on whether it's likely to be a problem.” After our early miscommunications, I was damned if I was going to be the one to restart any difficulties between us by acting in any way that could even be remotely perceived as showing a lack of openness. Yeah, I'm paranoid about it. So what?

His expression cleared. “Tell me.”

I went through the scene, trying not to sound as freaked about it as I still was. Unfortunately, it seemed as if I wasn't very successful, going by the look that had taken up residence on my lover's face. “He really didn't look pleased,” I finished.

“You don't know him?” Ryan asked, eyebrows flying.

“Nope. But I'm guessing you do,” I replied unhappily.

“Yeah.” He looked seriously at me. “He's bad news. Stephen - the other Stephen - barely managed to get away from him, right around the time we first discovered the anomalies.” At my horrified gulp, he shook his head. “No, he was never physically abusive, just very controlling and emotionally vicious.”

Leaning back into the chair, I let my head thump against the cushion. “Fucking hell. Is there any timeline where I haven't been a weak-spined idiot?”

Ryan's slightly strained chuckle made me open my eyes again. “I haven't the foggiest,” he said. “The only Stephens I've met have been my first and you. And you were both in an interesting state when I found you.”

I winced. That quite hurt. And when I looked over at Ryan, it seemed I wasn't the only one having difficulties with this subject. So, not really enjoying talking about it, I stood up, walked over to him and careful of the beer, knelt across him, straddling his lap on the sofa. Settling down, I placed my hands on his shoulders and leaned in to give him the most loving kiss I could manage. “I can't be sorry about that,” I said against his mouth. “Since it landed me you.” 

He grinned and pulled me close. “Right. Thanks.”

I slid off him and settled down with my arms crossed over my chest, my head on his shoulder and my feet on the coffee table. “So, who was he and how do I get rid of him again? Call the exterminators, since he seemed a rather large and persistent pest?”

After a thoughtful swallow of his beer, which had somehow managed to survive my wriggling, Ryan explained. “His name is William. He and Stephen were together when Stephen was working with Cutter at the University. Even from the beginning of their relationship, he resented every trip Stephen and Cutter took for digs, and he started getting worse and worse as time went on.” He tossed the now empty can into the bin beside the sofa. “It finally reached the point where he couldn't stand Stephen even working late without checking in with him.”

“Bloody hell,” I whispered.

“Hmmm,” Ryan agreed. “By the time of the anomaly at the Forest of Dean, he was doing his damnedest to get Stephen to quit and come work with him at his gym. Then Stephen got concussed by that Gorgonopsid, and that really sent William into a fluster. Especially since the Official Secrets Act meant Stephen couldn’t explain.” Ryan paused, lips tight. This was definitely taking a lot out of him.

“So I'm assuming that's when Stephen moved out?” Hoping to help, I cut to the chase.

“Yep.” The 'p' actually made a popping sound as Ryan tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “And to add insult to injury - according to William, anyway - Stephen moved straight in with me.” He chuckled. “I'd fancied Stephen since I met him - not many civilians I knew could handle a rifle like that - but I didn't make a move because he was taken. So it fell right in with my hopes that I could be the knight in shining armour - or rather guest room - when Stephen was freaked enough to want out of the relationship rather abruptly.” His expression turned thoughtful. “It was quite nice, really. I could give him time to really get to know me, and not have to worry too much about someone else cutting in before I could make a move.”

I chuckled. “The man with a plan, always.”

“Yeah. And now we need to come up with another plan. I don't like how you describe he was looking at you.”

Suddenly feeling as if meerkats were Morris-dancing up and down my spine, I agreed wholeheartedly. The expression on William's face had been unlikely to reassure anyone. “Me, neither. I just hope he doesn't manage to follow me on a shout. That could turn out to be very awkward.”

“Huh.” Ryan's tone signalled total disagreement. “Might be opportune if we're inundated with creatures from the Cretaceous.”

I popped up and stared at him, both for the Cretaceous knowledge and for the thought behind it. “You're evil. But then so am I, because I reckon that's an excellent idea.” Then I settled back, disgruntled. “Unfortunately, we never know in advance exactly when the anomalies go to.”

“True,” Ryan said. “But it's the basis for a plan, anyway.”

“You're being a bit ruthless,” I said thoughtfully. “I would have put that one as the last resort.”

Ryan grinned. “It is, but I always have more than one plan. Let me think about this one overnight, and we'll get together with Lester in the morning.”

“Lester?” I asked, knowing my voice sounded like a mix of plaintive and sulky. “Do we really have to involve him?”

“I think so,” Ryan said evenly. “The Anomaly Project is a classified operation, and if William has decided he wants you back, he’s likely to become a very annoying problem.”

“I suppose so.” I moved back across his lap again and leaned close to whisper into his ear. “But for tonight, can we ignore him and just have some fun?”

He pulled me close and stood up, then let me go slowly so my feet touched the floor gently. “Fun, it is. Seems we both have a plan.”

I shivered. It was very nice to know that talking about Ryan’s old Stephen hadn’t put him off me. So, being the contrary individual that Cutter had often accused me of being, I then grinned and took off at a run, making it up the stairs in record time. Ryan’s yelp of annoyance as I snagged the shower first was simply icing on the cake. Ryan had been putting off getting the bathroom remodelled to have a bigger shower stall, so he was just going to have to wait until I was done. At least I didn’t make him wait too long. I’m neither evil nor stupid.

By the time he finished cleaning up, I was sprawled on the bed, more than ready for him. There were times when I still couldn’t believe the second chance I’d been blessed with, and this was one of them. I think he knew it, because the smile on his face almost broke my heart. The level of understanding in it was almost painful, until I realised that he was going through the same thing I was - a second chance at happiness after a devastating loss. I reached out and pulled him in, holding tight. 

“I’m here,” I whispered. “Not leaving. Ever.”

His grip tightened. “Better not,” he replied softly. “I don’t think I could go through it again.”

Now, that deserved a kiss. So I gave him one. And another. Then, while he was distracted, I flipped him onto his back and settled between his legs with as wicked a grin as I could manage. He raised an eyebrow at me, then chuckled as he let me hold him down. If push came to shove, he could have me flat in about half a second; I’m pretty strong, and bloody fast, but he can still run rings around me. So, distraction was the name of the game. I reached out to the bedside table and rummaged through the drawer for the lube while I did my best to kiss him senseless. I might have succeeded a little more than I’d intended, because when I came up for air, having finally found the little bottle, his eyes were slightly crossed, their pupils completely dilated with only a tiny rim of cloudy grey showing. 

Not wanting to waste any more time, I coated my fingers liberally with the lube and headed straight for my target, sliding one finger, then two quickly into him. His eyes widened and he lost his breath on a gasp. I nibbled down his jaw to his neck, ending up at the spot that always drove him nuts. For some reason, he was horrendously sensitive to any bites at the junction of his neck and shoulder. So I took advantage of that, nipping and sucking until he whined. Once that happened, I knew he was done. 

I wiped a little extra lube onto my cock, settled in and started pushing. The tiny hole expanded slowly around my cock. It was tight, so tight. I almost lost it right then, but I took a few deep breaths and managed to regain a little control; enough so that I wouldn’t cause him any real damage, anyway. I have to admit I might have pushed in a little faster than I intended. It was just too good. Hot, tight, with just enough slickness to allow movement, but still have the tiniest bit of drag. 

“Oh, fuck.” The words were yanked out of me without conscious thought as I pulled out a little, and thrust in again, my first slightly jerky movements smoothing out to a regular pace, the exact speed I knew would completely undo him. I slid up a little higher on his body to change the angle, and when his hips jerked and he hissed, I knew I had the right spot. I proceeded to work it as hard as I could, feeling the tension in his body increasing in concert with my own, feeling him starting to twitch with every thrust, his eyes closing and his fingers tightening around my upper arms, where it felt as if he was holding on for dear life. I know I was; the heat and constriction was driving me over the edge. I knew I couldn’t keep control for much longer. I dropped my head to his shoulder, pistoning in as hard as I could, and managed to slide one hand between us to grasp his cock and pump once, twice, and he convulsed around me with a loud cry. The sudden, rhythmic clutching drove me into my own climax, and I came hard enough to make the edges of my vision grey out. 

I collapsed. I have no idea how long it took me to come back to earth, but I only opened my eyes again when I realised that the bouncing of what I’d thought was a pillow under my head was actually Ryan chuckling.

“Bloody hell.” I raised my head, which suddenly seemed to weigh about five tonnes, and stared blearily at him. “That was fucking amazing.”

He grinned and kissed me quickly. “It was, indeed.” He stretched, which was an interesting feeling in itself, as my spent cock finally slid out of him. 

I shivered at the sensation and gave him a slightly dirty look. “I imagine you want me to get the flannel this time, right?”

With a teasing grin, he nodded. “It is your turn.” 

Sighing, I dragged myself out of the bed and managed to clean us up before collapsing on his shoulder again. “’Night,” I whispered.

“Love you,” he replied, which made me kiss the nipple closest to me, and respond, “Ditto,” as I fell into the deepest well of sleep I’d managed in a while.

xXx

“Damn. As if Helen Cutter weren't enough of an annoyance, we now have another pest digging his way under the fence. Wonderful. Please tell me he's someone we can 'disappear' without any nasty repercussions from on high?” Lester's voice held such a long-suffering tone that I was hard put not to start giggling unbecomingly.

“Sorry, don't look at me. I never met the man in my old timeline.” I grinned teasingly at Ryan. “I have to say he was a definite hunk, although I wasn't pleased with his line in manic looks.”

Ryan snorted. “He might have been a hunk, but he was a nutter. We had enough trouble peeling Stephen out of his claws last time. I'd rather not have a repeat of that.”

Lester shuddered delicately. “Please, don't remind me. The memories are coming back, and they're not pleasant.” He leaned forward to look at me seriously. “You did the right thing, Stephen. The lives that you two Stephens lived have obviously not been completely parallel, and there are bound to be times when something you don't recognise confronts you. Continue to tell us when that happens, and we can cope. Let it go too long, and there will be trouble.”

The look he was giving me sobered me immediately. Lester's snarkiness hid a depth of caring that he seldom showed, but people who found that depth tended to forget that it in its turn was wrapped around a core of very hard steel. The man was not an opponent to disdain. If he had to fight, he would fight to win. 

“Right.” Lester was obviously satisfied with my reaction to his little speech, since he settled back. “Claudia, if you would be so kind as to take statements from Stephen and Ryan regarding the incident today and the earlier incidents with this 'William', we can perhaps eliminate the infestation whilst it is still in its larval stage.”

Claudia gave a fleeting smile and nodded. “Not a problem. We'll have Home Office representatives him a little visit as soon as we track him down. That should sort him.” She stood and, Lester sauntering behind her, she strode from the room with her sensible heels clacking on the floor.

I sat back, my feelings a little muddled. I was still sometimes struck dumb when the people around me backed me up without question or hesitation. Feeling simultaneously gratified and unworthy, I glanced over at Ryan, who was watching me with a painfully understanding expression. When I made a face at him, he grinned.

“It's not about him anymore, Stephen. It's all you, now. You've made your own place in everyone's thoughts.”

I blinked rapidly. “Blasted dust. They really should change the filters.”

Laughing, Ryan stood and held out his hand. “Time to go through the details with Claudia. And If I know her, she's already looked up last year's contretemps and found William's current address, mobile number and place of employment.”

I clasped his hand for a moment, then led the way out the door. “Let's find out, shall we?”

We entered Claudia's tiny office five minutes later to find her sitting there with a feral but satisfied expression on her face. She waved us to seats at the front of her desk. 

Once we sat, she started speaking. “Right. I've found your William, Stephen -”

“Not mine.” I had no compunctions about interrupting her. No way was I laying claim to that psychotic individual. 

She grinned at me. For such a laid-back woman, she had a nice line in shark-smiles. “Close enough,” she responded. “His name is William Wainwright. He co-owns and manages a local gym. He has the reputation of being, um, 'determined', shall we say? Not many people in the area will go up against him.” Her expression sobered. “The local authorities believe that his father has ties to organised crime, and they suspect he’s running drugs through his gym. It seems he has a number of rather large and intimidating ‘friends’.”

“Blast,” I muttered. “I really do have appalling taste in exes, don't I?”

“That's alright,” Ryan responded, patting my arm. “Your taste in currents is impeccable.”

Ignoring him, I spoke to Claudia. “So, what do we do?”

She had been leaning back in her chair, smiling at the interplay between Ryan and me. Now, she sat up and gave us the plan. “Not a problem, actually. He might be dangerous, but we are a top level classified operation, and you have a level of classification that matches our operation. So, that means you have much more power in this situation than he does.” Her smile widened to a grin at my gob-smacked expression. “Given that, I've spoken to MI5, and they've promised to send someone tomorrow to have a little ‘discussion’ with him.” This time, Ryan's mouth opened, and she glanced back and forth between us as she held up her hand. “And in addition, he will be informed that if he attempts any retaliation against you or anyone connected with your current employment or personal life, he will be dealt with summarily at the highest levels. We will follow through on that, too.”

I looked over at Ryan. He was looking back at me with a satisfied expression, so I nodded to Claudia. “That sounds good to me. I just don't want him to be a problem for me, Ryan, or the Anomaly project.”

She gave that shark-smile again. “He won't. Believe me, Stephen, when MI5 gets through with him, he will stay far, far away from you. In his line of business, he can’t afford to attract too much official attention. He’s pushing the envelope, already.”

“Thanks, Claudia. I really appreciate this.” I stood and smiled at Ryan, who grinned back.

“Time to get back to work,” he said, waving to Claudia. 

Her phone rang, so she simply waved back as she picked up the receiver. We headed out, leaving her to it.

Still a bit worried, I asked Ryan, “Do you really think this will work?”

He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. It doesn't really matter much, because if he tries to make trouble, he will land in one very deep pile of shit. And he probably will try.”

When I stopped and stared at him, he raised his eyebrows at me. Damn. Now I was starting to get nervous again. I hated not knowing anything about the man and how he would react to being to put on the defensive. “Crap. You really think he'll fight it?”

“Yes. From what I saw at the time, and what Lester and Claudia have just said, he's used to getting his own way. It will take a bit of pushing back for him to find out that not everyone will roll over for him.” He hugged me quickly. “Don't worry too much, Stephen. It might take a little while, but we will sort him.”

'A little while' was what worried me. I hated having to look over my shoulder all the time. But never mind, we still had our regular jobs to do. All that was required of me on this subject was to trust that Claudia knew what she was doing. And that I did. She might look rather mild-mannered to the uninitiated, but she was capable of taking on the best, and winning handily. So I took a deep breath and headed back to the atrium with Ryan at my side.

For the next few days, however, I spent almost every moment metaphorically looking over my shoulder in spite of everyone's assurances that Wainwright was keeping a low profile. Every time there was a shout, I worried until we made it back to the office without incident. Finally, after a week passed with no sign of him, I started to relax a little. 

Which turned out to be a mistake. 

One of the superfluity of Forest of Dean anomalies opened up again, right on schedule. This one had popped into existence once a month, every month, for the last eight, and it seemed to be on a repeating rolling cycle. It was the first one we'd been able to track that opened to more than one era. Permian, Triassic, Jurassic, Cretaceous, one after the other, rinse and repeat. This was our chance to see if it was going to start a third cycle from the beginning. If it did, the likelihood of it continuing to do so indefinitely increased immensely.

Abby and I arrived to where the Special Forces team had set up a preliminary perimeter until we could get there, far enough out to catch anything big, but still close enough in that any small creatures would be unable to slip through unnoticed. We had started a rotation on the trips through this anomaly: first team was Cutter and Connor, with Lyle, Kermit and Finn to guard them and Fiver to keep watch on the home side, and second team was Abby and me, with Ryan, Blade and Ditzy to guard us and Fizz on watch. It worked well. Mostly, anyway.

This time turned out to be a little different. Ryan and Blade had led us through, as always, and Abby and I followed with Ditzy bringing up the rear, leaving Fizz to stay behind to watch over the vehicles. We grouped on the other side, and Abby started setting up the monitoring gear while the rest of us looked around. The place seemed to be the same as the last time we'd come through to this era, the marks of our prior setup showing as clearly as I'd expect for about a three to four month gap. So it did seem as if this anomaly was running at the same speed as our own time, tied in directly. I wandered a little away, so intent on checking for signs of time-dilation or compression that I almost missed the yell that sounded from the direction of the anomaly. 

I spun around, and William Wainwright was standing in front of the anomaly, eyes wide and wild. He saw me, and started running toward me. No one had said anything about him being a sprinter, but he certainly had one hell of a turn of speed. He was outstripping even Ditzy, and that took some doing since the medic was used to getting from point A to point B as rapidly as possible.

I started backing away as he neared, since he was showing no sign of slowing down at all. Hoping I could fake him out, I kept moving backward step by step, then dodged to the side at the last second. He passed me at a rate of knots, but reached out one long arm and snagged my coat sleeve with hooked fingers. It was enough to upset my balance, and I tottered a couple of steps farther to the side, with him still attached and adding to our momentum. 

Ryan keeps telling me that when I'm concentrating on something, my situational awareness is crap. He's right. There was a slight drop-off, and I blundered right over it. It wasn't a cliff, or both Wainwright and I would be dead, but it was enough to make me lose my footing and pull him over with me. Plaited together, we rolled down the hill, cursing alternately as various body parts of first one of us then the other made painful contact with assorted rocks, roots and some chunks of what felt like already petrified wood that were scattered across the ground.

We came to a messy stop at the bottom of the hill, with my body on top of Wainwright but my right arm trapped underneath him. I could feel my bad shoulder straining, and I growled at him to move, but he could have won a weight contest with a boulder. A closer look showed me that he was unconscious, with a considerable but not dangerous amount of blood pooling at the back of his head. 

I rolled onto my back and was about to try yanking my arm from underneath him when Ditzy's yell made me go still.

“Don't try, Stephen,” he said as he slid to a stop beside us, fairly gracefully considering the state of the ground. “Your arm still isn't stable enough for antics like that.”

Letting my head drop back with a thud, I sighed the sigh of the mightily put-upon. “Then bloody well get him off me. I'm tired of the prat.”

He chuckled. “Give me a minute. I'd like to make sure he hasn't broken his fool neck with that idiotic move.” After a couple of minutes of very gentle manipulation of the body squashing my arm, Ditzy gave the okay and levered Wainwright’s shoulder up enough for me to pull the offended appendage out. 

I slid sideways and then rolled over, straight into Ryan's arms quickly enough to almost make me squawk with surprise. Like I said, crap situational awareness.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

I relaxed for what felt like the first time in ages. “I think so. A few new bruises, but nothing really damaged except my pride.” Staring at Wainwright, who was being loaded onto a stretcher, not roughly, but not particularly gently either, I leaned back onto Ryan's solid shoulder. “Here's hoping that Claudia will be able to seriously suppress that man. He's really starting to give me the creeps.”

Ryan cracked a laugh. “Me, too.” At Ditzy's nod, he stood up slowly, pulling me with him until I was vertical, if slightly tottery. 

“Shit, now I know how the Leaning Tower of Pisa feels on a good day,” I complained as the world began to tilt sideways. I felt everything start to recede, and Ryan's suddenly worried face was the last thing I saw before the blackness wrapped around me and I sank into it.

xXx

When I woke up, my neck felt as if it was in a vice. A few experimental twitches let me know that it was, in reality, in a neck brace. I was still a little woozy, so all I did was wonder vaguely why. After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling and counting tiles, I turned my head as much as I could and saw Ditzy wandering in with a grin on his face. I frowned at him, finding the idea of growling too tiring.

“Feeling better?” he asked cheerfully.

“Not really,” I replied, my voice sounding slightly gritty in my own ears. How long had I been out?

He checked the chart at the end of the bed and nodded in satisfaction. “They won't tell you shit, they never do, but you twinged a nerve in your neck on that oh-so-graceful cartwheel down the hill. You'll be in a neck brace for a few days, but it's going to be fine.”

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I grumbled. "Now I'm not even healed from the last injury before I end up hurt again. This is getting sodding ridiculous."

Ditzy laughed. "Consider yourself lucky. Wainwright has a twisted neck, a concussion, a wrenched shoulder, and a sprained knee."

"Good." I wasn't in the mood to be charitable. My neck was hurting, I was still a little dizzy, and I just wanted to go home and sleep for a week. After making sure that Wainwright wouldn't be a problem in the future, of course. "So, what happens to him now?"

Ryan's voice from the doorway made me glance over involuntarily. "He's in trouble. Big trouble.” He then smiled, rather evilly. “He seems to have been suffering from some rather odd hallucinations. Hallucinations that have convinced the doctors that he needs medical intervention.”

I winced. “Ouch.” Then I shrugged. “I reckon that’s appropriate. He’s a nutter, just not the type they think.”

“Agreed,” Ditzy threw in. “I was there when they were questioning him.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second, with a quick glance at Ryan. I was about to tackle him about that when his next words derailed my train of thought. “He’s obsessed with you; won’t take ‘not interested’ for an answer. The ‘hallucinations’ weren’t even the main reason they’ve committed him. They were just the icing on the cake.”

That actually didn’t make me feel a whole lot better. Just the idea that he was that fixated was a bit horrifying. That level of fanaticism was what made Helen so dangerous. “Why the fuck do I keep attracting the barmy ones?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” Ditzy patted me on the shoulder that wasn’t hurting, and headed for the door. “Stay horizontal, Stephen. Behave, and you’ll be out tomorrow morning. Act up, and you’ll be here for a week.”

I made a face at him, and he just laughed and waved as he left. Wanker. I turned my head to see Ryan standing by the bed with a little grin on his face. “I know. I’ll be good.”

He nodded. “Yes, you will.” Moving over to sit beside the bed, he reached out to hold my hand. “I’ll make sure of that.”

I examined him more closely. He was worried about something. That brought back to mind Ditzy’s little hesitation. It wasn’t about Wainwright, since he seemed to be sorted rather comprehensively, it wasn’t about me, since he was sitting here and Ditzy hadn’t been bothered about my relative state of health, so what else? Oh, fuck. How had Wainwright made it through the anomaly? “What happened to Fizz?” I asked quietly.

“Wainwright is facing weapons charges and drug charges as well as national security breaches. Fucker had a shotgun, taken from his grandad’s farm, where he was storing his shipments,” he replied, just as softly. “Luckily he just had the one shell.”

“Jesus,” I whispered. That was the final straw. I started to curl up into a ball. Why the hell did I always bring disaster onto everyone else? I seemed to survive. Always. It was the ones around me who paid the price. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Stop it,” Ryan ordered. “Fizz is okay. Wainwright was a shitty shot. He missed. All the bastard managed to do was make Fizz dive for cover for just long enough for him to make a run for the anomaly.” He chuckled. “You were so busy dodging Wainwright that you didn’t see Fizz piling through after him.” 

“Christ, you scared the crap out of me,” I complained, relaxing back onto the sheets. “Not fair.”

This time, Ryan’s evil grin was aimed at me. “I couldn’t see any other way to punish you for your inattention. You really need to improve your situational awareness, Hart.”

I grimaced. “I thought that’s what you big strong Special Forces soldiers are there to provide for us weak-spined scientific types.”

He stroked my cheek. “We can, most of the time,” he said seriously. “But it’s the odd moments that will catch us. I can’t lose you again, Stephen.”

“I’ll work on it,” I promised, then grinned. “I love you, too.”

He dropped his head to the sheets and muttered something that I reckoned I really didn’t want to hear. It didn’t matter. We were home, and safe. And that was all that could be hoped for, in the end.

Fin


End file.
